The Pills of Doom
by The Copycat Ninja
Summary: "I wonder what'll happen." "Mum will kill us, you know..." "Let's just do this...Now!" ... ... Where on earth was he?


**Author's Note- For the monthly challenge at LawlClan. The prompt is '**_**The afterlife was not what the protagonist expected.'**_

_**Remember, this is a parody; it is not meant to offend gingers. (Personally, I think gingers are really cute. :'D )**_

"_I wonder what'll happen."_

"_Mum will kill us, you know..."_

"_Let's just do this...Now!"_

These were the last words he heard, before his mind went blank.

**xPage Breakx**

Pale grey tendrils of mist curled around his feet. The crescent moon was almost completely obscured by opaque, cumulonimbus clouds. The faint light that could be seen only broke through the darkness of what was night near his feet; he could not see anything three steps ahead of him. Branches creaked; rotting leaves rustled almost inaudibly as a hushed wind blew them away. Shrill, fearful voices could be heard all around, while other, deeper cackles also disturbed the otherwise profound silence. Occasionally, a small and decomposing bone or two cracked underneath the male's heavy footsteps.

Where on earth was he?

A disturbing thought flashed across his mind. _What if this location isn't on earth? What if...What if I'm _dead_?_

The teenager shuddered, goose-bumps appearing on his pale, freckled skin. He couldn't be dead! He was only fourteen...He was just going into fourth year at Hogwarts!

Yet what other explanation could there be? True, he hadn't really made up his mind on what you believed, but surely an afterlife would be sunshine and lollipops for all the good looking heroes, like him? The wizard grimaced, wondering if whoever had put him into this ominous place had decided that he was too cowardly and ugly to go wherever Harry Potter would go.

With a light sigh, he trudged onwards. He may as well explore. After all, if he was stuck here for a while, it wouldn't do for him to just stay in the creepy woods that he was currently walking through.

Going down the bone littered dirt path, the light finally disappeared entirely, and the boy eventually stumbled into a clearing in the woods awash with the pale moonlight; this was clearly the best place for the moon to shine upon at its present position in the sky. He looked around, confusion clear in his pale blue eyes.

At first, the place was utterly deserted, but before his eyes, objects, people and animals began to appear, seemingly out of thin air.

A glorious feast was set out upon the table; sandwiches, meats, puddings, salads...You could name absolutely anything, and see it on that gigantic table.

Yet something seemed strange about it all. The people sitting around it-all ginger-haired, Ronald Weasley noted with a small chuckle-were staring at the food with vacant eyes. It seemed like they weren't even there at all, much to Ron's surprise. How anyone could be at a table simply groaning with the banquet and not be eating as much as they could without vomiting was beyond his comprehension!

Something meowed from at his feet. An almost skeletal cat-a stray by the looks of the poor animal-was staring up at the Weasley boy with vivid green eyes. The cat's ginger fur was fairly well-groomed, but still looked to be in need of a washing. Reaching down, the Gryffindor tried to pet the feline...However, as soon as he attempted to touch its head, his hand passed straight through it.

Ronald stared at the creature in blatant horror and shock, snatching his hand away; the ginger-furred cat just padded away, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Now even more freaked out, Ron slowly advanced to the table, keeping a wary watch out for any more ghostly animals. However, he didn't even see a swish of a tail, or a pair of eyes. Shrugging, he relaxed, and strolled up to the table,

"Hello, everyone! Is this some sort of ginger pride gathering?" Ron started, cracking a weak joke, and rolling his eyes when nobody even looked at him, yet alone laugh. "Anyway, I was just wondering if any of this food was up for grabs...?"

His icy blue eyes scanned the table hungrily, and his fingers twitched like a rabid racoon getting ready to raid some bins. When none of the people answered him, he grinned like it was all his birthdays combined, and reached out to snatch up a delicious looking strawberry tart. Shoving it into his mouth in one piece, Ron began to chew, hoping that it would be as good as his mother's home-made tarts. Instead, a gurgling scream began to claw its way out of his throat, as he opened his mouth wide and hundreds of hairy, fat, and long-legged spiders raced out. They scurried over him, into his clothes, shoes and hair, some choosing to stay inside his mouth.

Tears began to stream down the second youngest Weasley's face, as he crouched on the ground, and retched, vomiting out a variety of spiders.

Eventually, however, all of the wretched spiders had left, and Ron curled up on the grassy ground. Fear lead him to wail more, as one by one, all of the ginger-haired people at the table stood up and surrounded him,

"Gingers have fallen prey to the cursed table of greed many a time...

Some of us may see adorable little puppies; others could see a bowl of lime!

But no matter what our favourite thing may be...Even if it would be to see an enemy's tear...

That thing will evaporate if we touch it, smell it, wear it or eat it, into something we fear!

So do not try to run, stay with us, little one...For this will haunt you forever...

Yet if you do attempt to be clever, and run...Then listen to us as we say together...

You shall fail, fool, for being a ginger!"

The voices had merged to be one as they had spoken the last line, and Ron was practically shaking in his shoes. I mean, _hello_, what happened to ginger pride?

Shaking his head wildly, he turned and began to sprint. It seemed to take a century but he eventually got away into a deeper part of the forest, his heart pounding loudly. Groaning, he clutched his side where a stitch was making him bend over in pain. Nonetheless, it did not matter. He had run from them! He had gotten away from the ginger bullies! Well, they were gingers themselves, and he was a ginger too, so he couldn't really speak...

It was time to get back to the more pressing issues. Ron straightened up, and took in several deep breaths of air, before looking around nervously for any spiders. Not a single one of their awful eight legs were to be seen, so he gulped and strode forwards.

What made him stop cold in his tracks was the huge sign. On it, painted clearly in what could only be described as ginger coloured paint, were the words,

_You are dead, Ronald Weasley. And this is where you will spend eternity._

_For you, young man, are a ginger. _

_Oh, and by the way, Chudley Cannon robes are _not_ a good look on you. They clash _horribly _with your hair!_

**xPage Breakx**

As soon as Ron woke up in a cold sweat, he rushed out of his room, screaming with terror. He didn't notice a pair of mischievous twins by the side of his bed, chuckling with their mirth,

"Well, I'm taking the pill worked, right, Fred?" George grinned.

"Indeed, George! And it only took one pill plopped into his glass of milk!" chortled Fred.

"What shall we call it then, my dear twin?"

"The Ginger Minger pills? Give one to your ginger friend and they'll be scared out of their wits for days?"

"A completely realistic nightmare of what a freaky afterlife for gingers would be like? Only fifteen Galleons on selected owl-mail offers now?"

The twins smirked at each other, "Perfect!"

The Weasley twins left the room, still grinning and discussing price deals.

One thing was for certain; Ronald Weasley would never be the same again.


End file.
